


An Unexpected Guest

by Semperlitluv



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29170314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semperlitluv/pseuds/Semperlitluv
Summary: Robb returns home after a party to a surprising situation.
Relationships: Myrcella Baratheon/Robb Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	An Unexpected Guest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WinterRose527](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/gifts).



> Just a little Robbcella meet-cute. Hope you enjoy it, Anna!

Robb is halfway over his childhood bedroom windowsill before he admits to himself that he may be drunk. Just a bit, though — nothing like his college years with Jon, Gendry and Theon, when hitting a certain level of intoxication felt like a victory, regardless of the poor trophy of the next day’s hangover.  
  
This buzz is pleasant and steady. It blurs the edges of the quiet neighborhood streets Robb saunters down, enjoying the brisk air of early October after the cloyingly sweet-hot atmosphere of another Tyrell soirée. (He was still a little mystified that every Tyrell corporate office, vacation home, chauffeured car, and even the Tyrells themselves shared a signature floral scent. It had been a draw during his hot-and-heavy summer with Margaery before they both headed off to college. Unfortunately, the summer was also heavy on the drama and Robb wasn’t too disappointed to head to opposite ends of the continent come that August.)  
  
Robb tries not to stomp down as he finally wrangles his left leg over the ledge and onto the floor inside. He pauses, half-reminiscing on a spicy afternoon in Margaery’s swimming pool and half-listening intently. Only Bran and Rickon were likely to hear him anyway. Sansa had mentioned staying with a friend who had also recently returned from her second year of university. He tended not to question Arya about her activities, although he always felt that pang of protectiveness when she skulked off as suited the oldest brother of such a brood.  
  
Robb’s parents were out of town, visiting his Aunt Lysa. Or maybe it was Uncle Edmure? While the girls had already finished their semesters, Rickon and Bran still had a week left of school. Robb had agreed to ‘hang out’ with his youngest siblings and keep them out of either the hospital or jail. (“Robb is NOT babysitting,” Rickon had insisted as his parents rolled their suitcases out the front door.)  
  
Thanking the gods that his mother refused to change around any of their bedrooms so he could maneuver in the dark, Robb quickly sheds his shirt and jeans, throwing on an old pair of Riverrun U sweats before lifting the covers on his bed.  
  
He freezes with his arm holding up the blanket in the air.  
  
Robb is pretty sure he’s not _so_ drunk that he’s forgotten inviting an absolute angel into his bed.  
  
And yet, curled up within his sheets with light-colored hair draping alluringly around her, is the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.  
  
Well, as much as he can see her with only a slant of the streetlight outside cutting a sharp angle across the floor. Robb slowly sets the duvet back across the empty side of the bed (who uses a blanket in this heat, anyway?) and sits on the floor. It isn’t too uncomfortable to lean his head back against the side of the mattress. And Robb needs a minute to make a plan.  
  
He’d never been accused of making rash decisions. Robb Stark was known for careful, discerning judgment whether the situation involved ice cream flavors or multi-million dollar investment deals. Sansa and Arya quickly grew impatient with him during family game nights and frequently yelled the phrase “LONGEST TURN C’MON” when he’d spend agonizing minutes deliberating a move.  
  
Drunk(ish) Robb wasn’t any quicker to the draw. He ponders whether to sneak back out the window (too dangerous), wake up the angel in his bed (too cruel since she looked so peaceful), go downstairs to the couch (too much work), or maybe call Sansa since she always knew what to do (too late to call anyone, he reasons.) With his legs stretched across the floor, head back against the side of the mattress, the last thought Robb would recall in the morning was wondering why he felt the need to sneak into his parents’ house like a teenager past curfew when he was the oldest Stark within 100 miles. Maybe he's drunker than he thought.

_____

“Get up!”  
  
Sansa watches her brother crack open an eye before grimacing deeply and falling back against the floor where he’d apparently slept the night. She places another light, precise kick into his rib cage. Internally, she smirks at his obvious hangover and delayed reaction but keeps her best “Mom face” on as she pulls him to his feet.  
  
His mouth opens to reply, but she shushes him with a quick hiss, pulling him out the door and down the stairs into the kitchen. Robb blinks, slightly unsteady on his feet, looking around the kitchen like he’s been teleported to a new planet.  
  
“Sansa? Uh, I thought you were staying with that friend of yours last night?” Robb plops onto a bar stool, laying his face against the cool stone of the island, making sure he’s facing where she’s pulled herself up onto the side countertop.  
  
“I was going to,” she explains in a kindly hushed tone, “but Ella’s older brother had a herd of drunken frat guys over and neither of us was interested in that experience.”  
  
A gentle beep sounds from behind Sansa’s left elbow. She twists, pouring coffee into a mug waiting on the counter before gracefully leaning, extending her arm to meet Robb’s outstretched one. He takes the coffee gratefully.  
  
With a scratch to the stubble on his jaw, Robb’s forehead creases as he processes Sansa’s words. “Wait, who’s Ella?”  
  
“That would be me,” comes a honeyed voice from over Robb’s right shoulder. He tries to sit up and turn, but his head pounds something fierce, so he settles back to his prone position.  
  
The girl breezes toward Sansa, her hip brushing his elbow lightly as she goes past. Robb frowns, unsure if he’s ever felt his elbow so strongly. Surely the brief touch of this Ella wasn’t the cause. He’ll just have to chalk it up to a weird post-college hangover symptom. Maybe he should ask Theon or Jon. Theon had more hangover tricks than Robb had siblings.  
  
The girl named Ella leans next to Sansa’s countertop perch, having poured some coffee. Robb notes through squinting eyes that she doesn’t add anything to her cup. His darling sister had added a heap of sugar and cream to his mug before handing it over.  
  
“Ella, this drunkard is my older brother Robb.” Sansa waves an arm to punctuate her introduction. Robb grunts, but responding is difficult. Seriously, why does his head hurt this much? He’s twenty-five, not fifty-five. He can’t be too old for a night out.  
  
“Let me guess: the Tyrell party?”  
  
Robb manages to sit up and scratch at his face again (why is stubble so itchy?) He’s a little stunned when he wrenches his eyes all the way open. This girl must really be an angel.  
  
A halo of sunlight makes her shine. A golden goddess is standing in his kitchen. This girl slept in his bed last night. Robb feels like a perv when he considers running directly upstairs to see if his sheets smell as lovely as she looks.  
  
Robb knows he’s an attractive guy. He’s spent a lot of time around girls who say so: pretty girls, beautiful girls, gorgeous girls. He’s not dated much, but he’s a Stark with charm, so he does a bit of flirting. He’s usually pretty smooth.  
  
When, instead of responding like a normal human, he doesn’t respond to Ella’s question and keeps staring, dumbstruck by her face, Sansa hops off the counter. “Oh my gods, Ella. Robb’s too hungover to function,” Sansa tops off their coffee mugs. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes for the diner. Come with us if you can manage it.”  
  
Sansa pats his shoulder as she exits the kitchen. Ella pauses next to Robb with a hint of a glance at his bare chest. When she meets his eyes, the most adorable blush colors her cheeks. “I hope you come to breakfast,” she whispers before darting behind Sansa and up the stairs.

Robb's _definitely_ going to breakfast. 


End file.
